Talk:Nova/@comment-25065826-20150429201345/@comment-25065826-20150501210337
When I awaken, the first thing I realise is how plain and bright my surroundings are. Secondly, that I'm in a large, grey, square room and I'm lying on the cold floor. And thirdly, that the whole of the left side of my body is in a shit ton of pain. I try sitting up, but my side feels like it'll rip in half, so I bring up my legs with a cringe and push them against the floor just behind me, putting my hand against the floor and instantly recoiling with a horrible sensation. I manoeuvre myself until my head hits the wall. I raise my head a fraction, and keep kicking until I'm propped up against the wall, and then survey myself for injuries. There are enough to keep me busy. My left arm is wrapped in a wet paper or something, smells like a sterilising or cleaning liquid, and it feels like it's eating my arm alive, getting into my cuts and freezing my burn, both of which are making the clear water red with a mixture of seared skin and flesh and blood. My hoodie sleeve, which was partially seared, has been cut off above the elbow and black, paper-thin parts are My ribs, under my shirt, feel compressed into my body, pulled into shape. I see it's a thick bandage and cast wrapped tightly around my upper torso that's trying to pull my ribs into place, and the burn under this bandage are throbbing against the fabric and plaster. The burn goes down to my waist. And my face feels slightly sticky, kind of like my face has been washed and the water has been left to dry. I think that's what's happened. My right hand, reaching to my face, is clear of make-up and my hair is damp, left to dry on it's own. They haven't got the dye out of it, though. Which brings up the question. Where the Hell am I? I'm assuming it's the people in the cars who have got me. But who they are, if I'm with Quantum and if I can get a bloody glass of water from them is what is bothering me at the moment. I'm in a prison, currently, anyway, and the only view I have which isn't grey is out of a small circular window at the top of a faintly outlined door, which from my angle is just the slightly different shade of grey of the ceiling outside my cell. I need to find out where in the world I am... I push myself into a corner of the room, try to prop myself up, but completely fail and end up in an exhausted heap on the floor. And suddenly, there's a face at the window. A girl's face, older than mine and inquisitive. She searches the room for me, and sees me. Her eyes widen for a split second, and then go back to normal, her face more stony than before, and leans against the door, twisting the handle and walking in, with a figure behind her. She's tall, blonde and a few years older than me, the boy looks older as well, but he's much more... well, he looks like he's much more secretive and keeps his thoughts to himself. Oh, and he looks like the human form of Hell. I tense in the corner, searching their eyes for any information. Nothing, but the girl looks unnerved. I've decided I'm going to let these people talk first, find out their accent, and try mimicking it. They'll trust me more then. Because I know they're after answers. "Hello." The girl says. "My name's Cara. Are you okay?" She says. English. But I don't speak, don't move even. I don't know if I can trust these people. And it takes me a moment to get myself tuned for an English accent, anyway. "Are you okay?" She asks again, moving over to me and crouching, enclosing me in the corner. And she's too close to touching me. I breathe in sharply, and tense even more, and she steps back, looks at the boy, and looks back to me. The boy looks fed up. "What's your name?" He says, almost bored. "Niamh Rennet." I say quietly, rushed, the words coming out before I can stop them. His eyes hold mine for a few seconds, before I look away. If I look weak, they'll pity me and underestimate me. "What's your power?" Cara says. And I restrain myself, getting my priorities right. "Can I have a glass of water?"